


Anything For A Friend

by ReidFan



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-05 04:52:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15856596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReidFan/pseuds/ReidFan
Summary: When Spencer Reid is injured and suffers amnesia, Penelope Garcia goes above and beyond to help him recover.





	1. Chapter 1

Anything For A Friend

A Criminal Minds Fanfic

Reid, Garcia

 

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Author’s note: I’m not a doctor and I don’t play one on TV. The medical information herein contained is based on my layman’s research and may or may not be entirely accurate to the more trained eye. 

 

Once again, thanks to Aut for the usual above and beyond late night and early morning consult, betaing, general support and the occasional WTF moment. And the appropriate bible passage.

 

 

“A Friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity” **–Proverbs 17:17**

 

“There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature." **-Jane Austen**

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“Please! Please don’t die on me!” she cried, cradling his head against her chest and sobbing. His head lolled from side to side, his eyes fluttered open briefly before closing again. “Please, Spencer!”

 

Penelope Garcia choked back her tears and took a deep breath. Changing her strategy, she pulled his inert body closer and whispered in a stronger voice, “You’re gonna be okay, Wonder Boy. You’re gonna be okay.”

 

Debris from the explosion continued to rain down on them and Garcia shifted position again, intending to shield the unconscious agent from further harm. As she moved, she heard him groan and her attention moved from the still falling barrage of rubble back to her injured colleague.

 

He mumbled something unintelligible and she bent her ear closer to his face, and repeated her comforting words,

 

“You’re gonna be okay, Spencer. What is it? What are you trying to say?”

 

“D—don’t,” he managed, “don’t leav—“ he stopped, gasping in pain. His bloodied left hand reached out to take hers and for just an instant a look of peace crossed his face before he fell silent and stopped moving, slumped against a pillar. Her eyes grew wide with fear.

 

“Spen—“

 

Penelope’s plea was cut off as a portion of falling concrete block struck the exposed back of her head knocking her senseless and propelling her into Reid’s prone body. Their combined momentum pitched them both forcefully forward, sending them sprawling onto the parking garage’s cement floor. Garcia groaned in pain once as she rolled over. Still struggling, she managed to retake Reid’s hand. There was no sign of life from him and Garcia’s eyes filled with tears as her world went black.

 

Silence was punctuated by the eerie sounds of more rocks falling, the sound echoing through the otherwise still chamber of the parking garage.

 

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“Ms. Garcia will be all right, Agent Prentiss,” the attending doctor reassured Emily. “She has a lot of superficial cuts and bruises and will be nursing a headache from the mild concussion she sustained. But my prognosis is a full recovery after a few days rest and another week or so away from work.”

 

Dr. Sharma set Garcia’s chart aside and Emily noted that the doctor’s posture changed. She stiffened, her hands folded in front of her on the desk, atop the other chart there.

 

“What is it?” Prentiss asked.

 

Dr. Sharma sighed before she replied, “I’m afraid the news is not so good in regards to Dr. Reid.”

 

Emily shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Biting her lip, she met Dr. Sharma’s gaze and drew a deep breath. “Tell me. Please.”

 

“He has a number of contusions and a few broken bones, all of which will heal in good time.” She opened the folder and showed Emily the injuries pictured on the chart. “Two fingers on his left hand and the corresponding knuckles. Two cracked ribs,” she indicated on the picture and Emily nodded acknowledgement. “But what concerns me is the head trauma, Agent Prentiss. Dr. Reid keeps passing in and out of consciousness. The charge nurse indicates that he has briefly regained consciousness twice in the last twelve hours and both times, has asked for his wife.”

 

Emily’s eyebrows rose.

 

“But his intake papers indicate that you are his Medical Power of Attorney. And that he is single.”

 

Prentiss nodded, “I am. And he is. At least as far as I know, he is.”


	2. Chapter 2

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“Dr. Sharma said you were gonna be okay, Penelope,” Prentiss told her as she closed the hospital room door behind her and took a few steps closer to Garcia’s bed. “She said you’d probably have a bit of a headache for a while. And that I’m gonna have to give you a week or so off,” Prentiss smiled as she fidgeted with her fingers.

“I know how I am, Emily. That’s not what I asked. I asked how Reid is.” Garcia saw right through Prentiss’ distraction attempt.

Prentiss pursed her lips, trying to decide how much to tell Garcia and Penelope drew a deep breath.

“Emily Prentiss,” she said in a hard voice, before her bravado fell and her lips quivered. “Oh my God. Is he-?” She couldn’t bring herself to say it.

“Oh,” Prentiss moved quickly to Garcia’s side. She took Penelope’s hand in hers and continued, “No, no, no! I’m sorry, Pen. He is alive, but it’s just,” she paused to choose her words, “Not good yet. He’s got some cracked ribs and a lot of bruises and stuff, but it’s his head, Pen. He’s,” Prentiss paused again. “He’s not, he’s not himself.”

Penelope’s mouth made a large O and for a moment neither said anything. Emily patted her shoulder. Garcia blinked furiously as her eyes welled up with tears and then she made eye contact with Prentiss. 

“Tell me!”

“Dr. Sharma called it post-trauma induced amnesia. He’s got gaps in his memory, Penelope. He knows his name, he seems to know he’s an agent, but he doesn’t really recall cases. He has no apparent recollection of the explosion, or why you guys were even at that mall. But he could name all seventy-nine episodes of the original Star Trek series.”

They both smiled at that, and Prentiss continued, “He told me about a chess match a few months ago, but he couldn’t remember my name just five minutes after I told him it was Emily. Dr. Sharma says it’s the blows to his head. There’s a lot of swelling on his brain. And it’s a little weird, because in Reid’s case, there’s both old and new memories missed and recalled. She said usually it’s either the short term or the long-term memories that are compromised. But not both.”

Penelope nodded as she replied, “Of course. Our Boy Wonder would be unique.” She slipped off her bed onto her feet and told Prentiss, “I wanna go see him. I need to see him.”

“Absolutely. I’ll take you up to his room.” Emily took Penelope’s arm. “There’s one more thing.”

Penelope’s eyes met Emily’s again, the question unspoken but clear in Garcia’s gaze.

“He seems to think he’s married. He keeps asking for his wife.”

When the two women arrived at Reid’s hospital room a few minutes later, the door was closed. Prentiss knocked quietly and after a moment, the door opened and a nurse peeked out.

“It’ll just be a couple of minutes, we’re not quite done yet,” she said with an air of authority that allowed no defiance.

“Um, okay,” Prentiss replied, somewhat puzzled at the apparently hostile tone. From inside the room, they could hear Reid’s voice. He was asking the nurse about his wife. 

“Oh man, he’s still thinking he’s married,” Prentiss looked at Garcia.

“And it must be agony for him, wondering why she hasn’t been here in three days,” Garcia empathised immediately. 

“So weird that he’s missing memories both recent and past, but somehow his mind has manufactured a non-existent wife.”

Garcia nodded her agreement and they hugged.

“I’m gonna let you go see him, Penelope. I need to check in with Rossi and the others about the case they’re on. And I need to look into something else too. I’ll be back in a little while, okay?” 

Garcia nodded acknowledgement and Prentiss touched her shoulder, “Give him my love too, Penelope,” she said as she walked down the corridor to the elevators.

Finally, the door to Reid’s room opened wide and the same nurse reappeared. She smiled widely, and ushered Garcia in. Penelope saw several floral arrangements sitting in a line along the windowsill and a pile of textbooks perched on the top of the small table next to the patient bed. 

“Thank you,” she murmured to the nurse, then turned her attention to the patient. Penelope pasted a smile on her face and approached the bed, determined to be positive no matter what the severity of Reid’s injuries were.

“Spencer,” she whispered as she reached out with her hand to take one of his. There was an open book sitting on the bed beside him and Garcia picked it up and set it on top of the others on the table. She bent down and kissed his cheek, then chuckled and rubbed off the lipstick residue. “How are you feeling?”

“Better now,” he sighed deeply and drew her hand up to his lips, kissing it softly. Garcia sat on the edge of the bed and leaned forward to touch his cheek. 

“You scared me, I was so worried that you were gonna—“ Her eyes watered as she spoke, “Sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be—I’m just so glad you’re,” she paused for just a beat and finished, “getting better.”

He took in the sight of the bandage across the right side of her head. “You’re hurt,” he noted aloud.

“I’m okay. I was knocked unconscious, I had a minor concussion but I’m okay. I just have a bit of a headache now. I’m okay, knowing you’re here, you’re safe.”

He searched her face for a long moment, taking in the sight of her hospital gown and noting the ID bracelet on her wrist. She watched intently and saw his reaction as his mind made the connections. 

“That’s why you haven’t been here sooner. You’re a patient here yourself.”

She nodded acknowledgement. Her gaze transferred from his face to her hand and she realised his right hand was playing absently yet affectionately with her fingers. “I’m sorry, I would’ve been here sooner but I didn’t even know you were here in this hospital until this morning.” She sighed. “They said you’ve been in and out of consciousness—and mostly out—for three days.”

He nodded and brought her hand up to his lips again, softly kissing her fingers. His nurse returned to the room, carrying a tray bearing his lunch. Penelope rose from the bed, moving to one side so the nurse could step closer. She set the tray down on the small portable patient table and smiled at them.

“Dr. Reid,” she waved at the tray, “Good to see that you’ve decided to stay with us.” She consulted his chart and nodded approvingly. “Says you regained consciousness almost four hours ago now.”

Reid nodded.

“Well that’s good. Hopefully you’re hungry. Now, I want you to eat that broth and that Jell-O. If that holds and you want more to eat, I’ll see about something a little more substantial.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he laughed, and then, holding Garcia’s hand, he introduced them, “Penelope, this is my nurse, Eve. Eve, my wife, Penelope.”


	3. Chapter 3

Penelope managed to stifle the gasp that began to issue forth from her throat and she quickly covered up with a small cough. Her eyes met Eve’s and she extricated her hand from Spencer’s grasp and extended it to the nurse, “Nice to meet you. I trust you’ve been taking good care of my Spencer.”

Eve’s glance managed to convey the message she wanted to send: Play along! Please, just play along with him for now.

Garcia nodded, almost imperceptibly, and Eve moved so that Reid could not see her face before she quickly made eye contact with Garcia again. Thank you, she mouthed. Garcia smiled acknowledgement and turned her attention back to her temporary husband.

“They said you saved my life.”

“I’m sorry,” he began and, realising how that sounded, quickly elaborated, “I mean, I’m sorry I don’t remember doing that.” He heaved a sigh and continued, “It’s so frustrating. I remember us being in, I think they said it was a parking garage? But I have no idea what we were doing there. Or what happened. They said I’m an FBI agent. But the memories are so disjointed. And vague. I remember,” he paused and looked up at her as she sat down next to him and once again took his hands in her own. 

“I remember being in Mexico. But I have no idea why. I don’t know anyone in Mexico! And our supervisor, I think? Agent, um, Prentiss?” He paused as Garcia nodded acknowledgement, then continued. “She showed me a bunch of photos. Of agents we used to work with. But I don’t remember them. I don’t remember any of them. Yet I can picture clearly being in a train with a deranged man who thought he had a chip in his arm and aliens were tracking him. Help me, sweetheart. Help me remember all this?”

He leaned forward into Penelope’s arms and buried his head in her shoulders.

“How can I help, Spencer?” 

He leaned back and searched her face. Garcia kept her expression as neutral as she could, seeing the distress mounting in Reid’s own countenance.

“Help me remember.” His voice caught. “Why can’t I remember? That Agent Prentiss said I was a genius.”

“You are a genius! You have an IQ of 187. You can read twenty thousand words a minute. And you have an eidetic memory. Although right now, it’s all clouded by the head injury. I don’t remember exactly what she said it was, Spencer, but you have some swelling in your head that’s affecting your memory.”

He considered this for a minute, and Garcia was buoyed by how much he seemed like his pre-accident self at that moment. The look on his face mirrored how he often appeared when he’d been processing information about a case. His eyes seemed focused on some point behind her yet she knew he was deep in thought and his brain was solving some mystery. His glance shifted to the books on the table and then suddenly shifted again, making eye contact with Garcia.

“The hippocampus,” he stated in that same confident tone of voice he often had when sharing his theories with his BAU teammates.

“The hippo-what?”

“My brain is compromised by swelling to the hippocampus. It’s a ridge of gray matter; roughly shaped like a seahorse. It’s the part of the brain that’s the center of emotion and memory. Located in the medial temporal lobe, it—“

“And when you got whacked on the head by that falling debris from the explosion—“ Garcia realised.

“I did?” He was surprised and started to shake.

“Uh huh.” She clutched his right hand tightly, then released it and instead pulled him into a tight hug. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she reassured him gently. He pulled back to reestablish eye contact.

“Why don’t I remember that?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, and then running her fingers carefully through his hair, “And it doesn’t matter. It’ll come to you eventually, my sweet. Please don’t fret over this.”

He bit his lip and stared at her for a long moment. “Why don’t I remember us getting married? I mean, obviously we met at work, right? But I don’t remember—wait.” His brow furrowed as his mind tried to decipher the clues it was receiving. “We went to a Dr. Who convention together.”

She smiled broadly and nodded. “And you make an adorable Fourth Doctor.”

He smiled back at her in return and then just as quickly a frown crossed his face as he remembered something else. “You said you could not possibly be sexually attracted to me.”

Her face clouded over briefly and she thought quickly, “I was making excuses. That’s just not true.”

“You lied to me?”

“No, I was just on the rebound at the time. And. Hey, you remembered something! Think of it that way.”

He considered this and nodded. Garcia was disturbed by how quickly his demeanour changed from confident to rattled, from agitated to ebullient. 

“What do you know about amnesia, Spence?”

“It’s a deficit in memory, generally caused by brain damage, a result of physical or psychological trauma or the use of specific sedatives or hypnotic drugs. Memory can be wholly or partially lost, and that’s due to the relative amount of damage to the brain. It’s typically associated with damage to the medial temporal lobe, specifically the hippocampus. There are two main types of amnesia. Retrograde and anterograde. And,” he paused and their eyes met and he waved a hand and said, “either can be temporary or permanent.”

His brow furrowed and Penelope patted his hand.

“What is it?”

“I don’t seem to fall into either category. Or maybe I fall into both. I mean, I’m not remembering both recent and distant things. And at the same time, I am remembering some recent and distant things. I just don’t get it,” he said in a frustrated tone.

Penelope smiled and told him, “You’ve never been average, Spencer. You’ve always been unique. Special. Marching to a different drum. None of this will matter, your gorgeous gray matter will heal and you will remember everything.”

“Everything?”

“Knowing you, yes.” She stood up and pushed the tray table closer to him. “You need to eat your lunch, Spence. And I need to get back to my own room before my nurse puts out an APB.” She bent down to kiss his cheek and promised him, “I’ll be back later.”

She tapped a finger on his lunch tray and said, “Eat!” and then turned towards the door.

Reid laughed and called out after her, “I will. I love you.”

She stopped and turned back towards him. Smiling, she blew a kiss in his direction then she opened the door and left. 

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“Okay, thanks Dave. If you need any more files, just let me know.” Prentiss tucked her cellphone back into a pocket and moved from her fax machine over to her desk.

After seating herself, she booted up her computer and returned her attention to its screen. She read everything Dr. Sharma had sent her about amnesia and an hour later Emily felt a little better about Reid’s prognosis. Letting out a sigh, she shut down the computer and leaned back for a moment.

“Dinner,” she decided after glancing at the clock. She’d missed lunch altogether in her hurry to consult Reid’s doctor earlier. It hadn’t occurred to her then to grab something to eat on the way back to the office from the hospital. And she’d spent most of the afternoon compiling the information Rossi had requested in conjunction with the team’s current case in Sacramento, California. Now she was starving, yet she still had to stop at Garcia’s apartment to fulfill her promise to Penelope that she’d stop in to check on and feed Sergio.

It was almost seven when she finally arrived for her order at the pickup window of the Chinese food takeout shop two blocks from the hospital. She drove on to the hospital, pulled into a visitor’s parking spot and still in her car, hurriedly gulped down her dinner, then headed into the building to visit her team members.

The nurse was just finishing with Garcia’s vital signs as Prentiss yanked open the door and entered the patient room.

“Whooooops, sorry,” she apologised half-heartedly and asked the nurse, “Did you want me to wait outside?”

“No, I’m done here, it’s fine,” the nurse replied as she entered her findings on Garcia’s chart and set the clipboard back in its spot at the end of the patient bed. She left, shutting the door behind her and Emily approached Penelope’s bedside. The room was filled with flowers; there were at least a dozen vases full of blooms and several live arrangements. Prentiss stepped carefully around them as she made her way over to Garcia’s bedside.

“It looks like a florist’s shop in here!” she began with a smile, and then reported, “Sergio’s good. I fed him, changed his litter box and gave him some fresh water. He said a new toy would be nice, so I’ll stop and get him a mouse or something at Pet Smart tomorrow. How are you?”

“Thank you. I’m good, Emily. Thanks,” Penelope replied and promptly burst into tears.

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	4. Chapter 4

“I’m sorry,” he said, over and over again as Eve tried to calm him. Reid was agitated and was alternately tearfully apologising and angrily demanding to be left alone. He hugged Eve close and crying, said, “I don’t know these people. Please make them go.”

 

“They are gone now, Spencer,” she reassured him, gently but firmly extricating herself from his embrace. “I’ve asked them to go, they left.”

 

He heaved a sigh and drew several deep breaths. Sitting back against the mattress, he finally relaxed as he looked around the room and saw that only he and Eve were present. His breathing returned to normal.

 

“See? It’s okay.”

 

He nodded, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

 

“Shhh, it’s okay. Why don’t you try and sleep now? Do you want me to get you something to help you sleep?”

 

He shook his head ‘no’ vehemently. “No. No medications. I’ll—I’ll go to sleep now.”

 

“All right, then, good night, Dr. Reid,” Eve pushed the button that moved the bed back down into a sleeping position. She drew the rails up beside him, set the call bell in place and straightened out his covers. Taking his chart from the foot of the bed, she exited his room, shutting off the overhead light on her way.

 

Eve sat at the nurses’ station and detailed the incident in Reid’s chart. Following the request Dr. Sharma had left with her, she sent a text, informing the doctor of this newest occurrence. She called downstairs to the ward on which Garcia was a patient and spoke to Penelope’s nurse Helen. Fifteen minutes later, Eve returned quietly to Reid’s room. He was asleep and she moved silently, replacing his chart in its spot.

 

 

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“Penelope!” Prentiss hurried to envelop the distraught woman in a hug, “What happened? What’s wrong?”

 

She sniffled and managed to control her outburst, drew a deep breath and calmed herself.

 

“It’s Spencer. He,” she paused as a surge of sadness passed through her, “He kinda flipped out on me, on us, tonight.”

 

“Pen! What do you mean?”

 

“We were just talking. Him and me. Eve, his nurse. And the nurse—Maria, I think, was her name—who delivered his dinner tray. He seemed fine, talking normally and suddenly he just started yelling for us all to leave him the hell alone.” She shook her head slightly, “That’s just not like him.”

 

“Aw, Penelope. It’s the amnesia, I’m sure of it,” Prentiss stroked Garcia’s back affectionately, trying to reassure her. “That’s one of the symptoms, honey. Calm and rational one moment, and something triggers and the patient gets angry or weepy. Dr. Sharma sent me all sorts of information about the condition.”

 

Garcia was nodding. “Uh huh, that’s what Eve said, too. But it’s just so not like him. It was hard to watch, Emily. He was so upset.” She dabbed at her eyes.

 

“Pen, do you remember what exactly you were talking about when he lost it?”

 

Garcia thought hard but couldn’t recall the conversation.

 

“It’s okay. Maybe it’ll come to you.” Prentiss decided to change the subject, “You know, I really miss you at work. Rossi called needing the 4-1-1 on a couple of suspects. Took me five times as long to dig through those computers to find what would’ve probably taken you five minutes.”

 

“Oh. Did you need me to do some digging?” Garcia looked around the room and realised, “I don’t have my laptop. I need my laptop.”

 

“No. No, no, no. Sorry, P, that’s not necessary.” She remembered something and drew an iPhone from her pocket. “Oh! I did smuggle in your phone for you,” she confessed, handing over the device. “But no digging. I just wanted you to know you’re missed at work. And how much! I never realised how much we depend on you.”

 

Realisation dawned on Garcia. “And how much you’re trying to distract me from thinking about Spencer.”

 

Prentiss grimaced. “Busted.”

 

“I understand. And I appreciate it. But right now, it’s vitally important that I’m there for Spence—oh my god, Emily. Did they tell you?”

 

“Tell me what?” her eyes grew large with concern. Had Dr. Sharma neglected to mention something?

 

“Spencer kept asking for his wife.”

 

Somewhat relieved that there was no new troubling issue with Reid’s health, Prentiss nodded, “Yes. Remember? We talked about that a couple days ago.”

 

“Well. Um, Emily?” Penelope sat up straighter and told her, “It’s me, Em. He seems to think we’re married.”

 

Emily checked her laugh and met Penelope’s gaze.

 

“Oooooookay,” she trailed off, biting her lower lip.

 

“And Dr. Sharma and Eve wanted me to play along. He was still really fragile when he was first coming out of it and they wanted to keep the stress on his mind to a minimum. If he believed that he was married, they were gonna go along with it. And then when I showed up to visit him, and he thought I was his wife, well—“

 

“You played along,” Prentiss nodded approvingly.

 

“Uh huh,” Garcia acknowledged. “You know, Emily, that I would do anything for him. Anything.”

 

“And what are you gonna do when he remembers?”

 

“I will tell him the same thing I just told you, Emily. I would do anything for him,” she replied resolutely.

 

Prentiss pondered that for a moment and then asked, “What if he never remembers?”

 

“Then I guess I’ll be picking paint chips and fabric swatches for the new place with my husband,” Garcia retorted. “But he’ll remember. He’ll remember everything, Emily.”

 

Emily locked eyes with Penelope.

 

“This is Spencer Reid we’re talking about, Emily. Genius. Eidetic memory. Survived a forced dilaudid addiction, anthrax, several gunshot wounds and an undeserved prison stint. Amnesia doesn’t have a chance, my friend.”

 

Nodding, Emily couldn’t help but chuckle. “And this is another reason we miss you so much at work.”

 

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He tossed and turned in his bed for several moments before finally awakening from the nightmare. Spencer Reid sat up in bed. He blinked several times, shaking off the images of being drugged and beaten. It seemed so familiar, yet so foreign. The room was dark and he couldn’t make out its details. Everything was out of focus and he realised he needed his glasses. He pawed along the tabletop next to the bed and finally found them. As he slipped his glasses on, the room came into focus and realisation set in.

 

“I’m in a hospital bed,” he noted, taking in the medical equipment around him. He rattled the bed rails on his right but failed to dislodge them.

 

Frustration mounted within him and he became acutely aware of his state. “No. No, not gonna happen,” he declared as he tried rattling the rails on his left side. He took several quick deep breaths and calmed himself. “Water,” he decided and reached across his bed to the table where a small plastic carafe sat. His hand brushed against something clipped to the bed and he realised it was the call button for the nurse.

 

He pushed the button and waited.

 

A few moments later, the night nurse arrived. He wasn’t familiar with her and felt himself getting agitated again. Swallowing hard, he fought the rising panic within. He reasoned she was in uniform, wearing ID and calmly asked,

 

“Who are you?”

 

“I’m sorry, Dr. Reid. I’m Tammy. I’m your night nurse. You have been asleep or unconscious every night that I’ve been here so far. Eve told me that you regained full consciousness yesterday morning but I was off last night so I missed actually meeting you.”

 

She moved forward to offer her hand, which he looked at briefly before relenting and offering his own in return.

 

Her brow furrowed but she said nothing and instead asked, “You called for me. What do you need?”

 

He motioned to the bed rails, “Take these down, please?”

 

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Spencer.”

 

“Bathroom,” he said, casting his eyes downward.

 

“Oh!” She relented, “All right, sorry then.” She disengaged the rails on his right and walked him to the bathroom, holding an arm and waited by the door. After he was done, she returned him to the bed and gave her a look of dismay when she set the rail back in place.

 

“I’m sorry, Spencer, but it’s a safety protocol. You have a head injury.”

 

He nodded acquiescence and sighed, before lying back down on the bed. “So the reason I don’t recognise you is because we’ve never actually met before.”

 

She smiled in agreement. “You’re okay, Spencer?”

 

“I’m not gonna have an episode, if that’s what you mean. I had a nightmare, I remembered something from the past but I’m okay.”

 

“Do you need anything else?”

 

“I need outta here.”

 

She chuckled and shook her head, “Well. I’m sorry, Spencer, but obviously that’s not gonna happen until your symptoms are better.”

 

“I know,” he said resignedly.

 

“Back to sleep now, okay? We’ll see how you are in the morning.”

 

“You’ll let my wife visit me in the morning?”

 

Her eyebrow rose but she nodded anyway, “I’ll leave a note with the day nurse.”

 

“Thank you,” he murmured before snuggling down under his covers and going back to sleep.

 

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	5. Chapter 5

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“It would’ve gone much faster with Garcia but I’m glad I was able to help, Dave,” Prentiss was on her phone with Rossi the following morning. He finished updating her on their case and she acknowledged that the jet would be arriving with the team back in DC in about an hour. “I’ll get your preliminary report in to the Director ASAP. Dave, you can send him the final one when you’re ready. No hurry. You guys were up so freaking early this morning.”

 

She waited as he spoke and then acknowledged, “Okay, thanks. I’ll let him know.”

 

She put her phone back into her purse, dug her keys from its depths and locked up her apartment as she prepared to make the drive into the office. It was almost ten a.m., which meant, she realised belatedly, that it was not quite seven a.m. for the team in California. She sent Garcia a text to apologise for not being able to visit this morning, climbed into her car and then turned her attention to driving.

 

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“How was he last night?” Garcia asked Eve as she arrived at Reid’s hospital room door. She’d been permitted to dress in her own clothes this morning, and Penelope had chosen to wear a sunny and bright coloured dress paired with a short sleeved white knit sweater.

 

“He woke up needing the bathroom once. Met his night nurse finally but he did all right. She—Tammy, that’s his night nurse—thinks he managed to work himself through a bad memory.”

 

“And he asked for me?”

 

“He did indeed.”

 

Garcia wasn’t sure whether she should be anxious or happy about that.

 

“After he yelled at us to get out yesterday,” she mused. “I hope he’s past whatever set him off.”

 

“I suggest we don’t bring up the subject of weddings today,” Eve advised. “Although I don’t think Maria meant anything by her comment.”

 

“Oh my, that’s what it was!” Garcia exclaimed.

 

“I’m sorry?” Eve asked.

 

“He mentioned to me a couple of days ago that he doesn’t remember our wedding.”

 

“Oh. Well of course he wouldn’t!” Eve shook her head. “Of course he wouldn’t remember. And that’s what set him off, oh my goodness! Maria made that comment about hospital food not exactly being like a catered wedding dinner.”

 

“It seems so irrational, but given the circumstances, totally understandable. Poor Spencer.” Penelope nodded at Eve as her hand grasped the handle of the door, “I won’t bring that up!”

 

Eve smiled her agreement and headed down the hallway towards the nurses’ station.

 

Garcia entered the room and gave Reid a bright smile.

 

“Hey you! How are you, my love?”

 

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“Open and shut case, Emily. Pretty sure of it. Local L-E guy was confident the D-A would call it ironclad. Simmons and Alvez did some damn good legwork on this one,” Rossi told her as they walked together down the hallway to her office. “Now, tell me about Garcia and our Genius. They’re okay?”

 

“Garcia’s fine. Reid,” she sighed, “Not so much. He’s got amnesia, Dave. He knows his name, but doesn’t seem to remember Morgan or any of the others. Recognised me when I went to visit him, but had to ask me my name repeatedly. It’s so weird. His doctor says his case is unusual. I’ve got all sorts of data and studies his doctor shared with me if you wanna read ‘em.”

 

She opened her office door, ushered Rossi in and quickly booted up her computer and logged into her mail.

 

“There. It’s all in there. I know you guys—you and JJ and everybody—wanna see Spencer, Dave, but Garcia says he gets really agitated when he can’t remember something or someone and it’s not good for him. He didn’t know Gideon or Hotch or even Morgan when we showed him pictures and Garcia really wants to keep the stress to a minimum for him. For now anyway.”

 

Rossi nodded his understanding. “Whatever The Kid needs, Emily. I get that.”

 

“I have a couple errands to run and a meeting with the Director. Be back later.”

 

Rossi acknowledged her, giving her a small wave as she left and then sat down at Prentiss’ computer to read.

 

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Reid stared blankly at Garcia for a long moment before he finally spoke. “Sorry. You are?”

 

Garcia’s eyes grew wide. _Oh My God, he doesn’t recognise me? went through her mind. How do I react? What do I say?_

 

She bit her lip and stuttered, “I’m Pen-Penelope. Penelope Garcia. We, um, work together.”

 

_Did he forget he thought I was his wife? How should I proceed?_

 

He blinked and rubbed his temple with his right hand. Closing his eyes in pain, he shook his head slowly from side to side.

 

“I’m sorry, I—I have such a headache,” he sighed heavily.

 

“I’ll go get your nurse!” Garcia exclaimed and scurried out the door to find Eve.

 

Half an hour later, Reid’s eyelids drooped as the pain medication took effect and he fell asleep. Garcia tucked the blankets up around his chest and then sat down in the chair next to his bed. Taking her iPhone from her pocket, she clicked it on and sent out several text messages then proceeded to surf the ‘net.

 

At noon, Eve entered and shooed Garcia back to her own room. They spoke in hushed tones.

 

“Dr. Sharma will be in here to examine Spencer in about an hour. And you need to go eat your lunch.”

 

Garcia nodded, “My doctor’s gonna see me today too. I might be getting out of here. I mean I might be getting discharged. I won’t be leaving though. I’ll be here with him for however long,” she trailed off.

 

“Go,” Eve encouraged.

 

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The door to Penelope’s room opened and Emily Prentiss peeked in.

 

“You decent and awake?” she asked in a teasing voice.

 

“I’m getting sprung!” Garcia replied happily. “My doctor says I’m well enough to leave.”

 

A smile stretched across Emily’s face that widened even further as she correctly anticipated Garcia’s next words.

 

“Though I won’t be going anywhere except upstairs to Spencer’s room.”

 

“How’s he doing? Any better since yesterday?”

 

Garcia heaved a sigh and set down the bag she’d been packing.

 

“He didn’t recognise me when I went in to see him this morning. And he was complaining about having a headache. It looked so bad I went for his nurse and she gave him pain meds. And Emily.” she sighed again, “We all know how he feels about narcotics.”

 

“Oh dammit, that sounds like he’s getting worse not better.”

 

“Yeah. No. I don’t know.” She gestured unhappily with her hands and continued, “Eve said the night nurse reported he had a good night. After the um, episode, earlier in the evening. He settled and had a good night and apparently worked his way through some bad memory he had without incident.” She met Emily’s gaze, “She didn’t know what the memory was, he didn’t get into specifics just that it was a bad one from years ago. But he didn’t, um, flip out; he handled it. So that’s good news, right?”

 

Emily nodded.

 

“But him not remembering me” Penelope began.

 

“Maybe the headache had something to do with that,” Emily soothed.

 

Penelope nodded and brightened a little. “I hope you’re right.”

 

“Think he’s awake yet?” Prentiss asked and before Garcia could reply, she added, “Since you don’t wanna go home, let’s go upstairs and see him.”

 

Emily took Penelope’s bag in one hand, and held her arm with the other and together the two of them walked to the elevator bay and rode up two floors to visit their friend. Eve was on the phone but waved them on as they passed the nurses’ station.

 

They opened the door carefully and observed; Spencer was standing by the window, intently watching something outside. Prentiss set Garcia’s bag down silently and exchanged a glance with Penelope.

 

“Hi,” Penelope said in a quiet voice, drawing the single syllable out to several until he heard her and turned to face them. For just a moment he stood still, eyeing them and then he broke into a smile and took several steps forward, enveloping Penelope in his arms. She slid her arms up around his neck and returned his hug.

 

“Hi yourself, how are you?” He asked, nuzzling her neck gently. She stepped back out of the hug, stroking his arm. He smiled, first at Penelope and then lifted his head to include Emily in his reply too.

“I’m better. At least, I think I am,” he said, grinning. “Thanks.” He acknowledged Prentiss with a nod, hesitating for just a moment before saying “Hello,” he paused for just a beat before adding “Emily.”

 

She nodded happily. This was the fastest he’d been able to recognise her, and without being prompted either.

 

“Penelope here tells me you remember some things.”

 

“Mostly events. And stuff I’ve read. “He gestured towards the books on the table behind him, “Like those. Thanks for bringing them, by the way. I was going through the two amnesia books you included, and as I was reading the first one, I realised I’ve already read it once before. But it was helpful; it triggered a few other memories. “I remembered doing magic tricks for kids in someone’s yard. Penelope had a card behind her ear. The Queen of Hearts, appropriately enough,” he smiled. “And I think I’ve always liked magic. I’ve had snippets, little images of other magic tricks in the past. Physics magic comes to mind—“ he trailed off.

 

“Oh that was hilarious, Spencer. I don’t know what exactly your magic was—“

 

“A magician never tells!” he interrupted her, a smile emerging at the corner of his mouth.

 

“Right! But it was so funny. You made that little canister absolutely fly through the office. And it hit me. Right in the head.”

 

“Oh,” Reid’s forehead creased, “I’m sorry.”

 

Prentiss was laughing and waved it off. “It was even funnier when the next one went further and hit Hotch.” She stopped laughing and bit her lip, realising that Reid hadn’t recognised Hotch previously.

 

“Our old boss,” he said, and all three of them were excited as they realised Spencer had remembered Hotch. “I thought he’d kill me. Well, at least give me hell for that. But he pointed out I was really starting to get some distance.”

 

“You remember that!” Garcia was ecstatic and hugged him.

 

“I remember all sorts of things, but they’re so unorganised. So disjointed. Like, I remember—“ he paused for a moment to sort through several memories occurring to him all at once. “We all went out for Chinese food and everyone was making fun of me because I can’t use chopsticks.” He looked at Penelope and Emily and said, “Neither of you were there though. It was,” he thought for a moment, “Hotch was there but I don’t remember, I don’t remember the others. I can see, in the memory that there are others and obviously I know them, but I can’t, I don’t know who they are.”

 

“But it’s a start, Spence. You remembered my name today without any cues and you remembered Hotch just now. The rest will come back to you. It will,” Emily assured him. He nodded, still holding Penelope close. 

 

“I remember a woman spitting mashed potatoes into my hand and then drawing letters into it.” His face crinkled in disgust and then he gasped, “And. I remember—“

 

He took a deep breath and said, “Scopolamine.”


	6. Chapter 6

Two sets of feminine eyes grew wide. Prentiss stifled a gasp of her own as his demeanour changed. Reid started to shake and Garcia quickly moved to take his arm and help him back to his bed.She dropped her purse on the floor in front of them and sat down next to him. He took a series of deep breaths, releasing them slowly, stemming the onslaught of hyperventilation.

 

“I remember being drugged. I don’t remember all the circumstances, but I remember being on the floor, on my knees and being sprayed with it.”

 

Garcia rubbed his back. He shut his eyes and leaned heavily against her for a long moment.

 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re remembering Mexico,” Garcia soothed.

 

He lost it and turned into her embrace, buried his face in her shoulder and cried.

 

Prentiss caught Garcia’s eye, gestured and mouthed, “I’ll go out, I’ll wait out there.” Garcia nodded her thanks and Prentiss quietly left the room.

 

“Sorry,” he whispered into her hair when he managed to bring himself back under control several minutes later. “I’m sorry—“

 

“Shh, shhhhh. No. No apologising. It’s okay. I can’t imagine how difficult this all must be for you.”

 

They sat together on his bed, enclosed in a tight hug for a long while until Spencer collected himself. Finally, he released her from the embrace, taking her hand instead.

 

“Do you have any photos on your phone?” he asked, a look of fresh resolve crossing his face.

 

“I—I do,” she nodded, reaching for her purse. She drew the device from the purse’s depths and clicked it on.

 

“What did you want to see, Spencer?”

 

“Things. Places. People I should recognise,” he suggested.

 

“Okay, okay.” She swiped through the photos, took several images from various Internet sites and quickly put them all together in a folder which she then presented to Reid.

 

He looked at the first one, furrowed his brow and shook his head, “Sorry, don’t know her,” he said as he looked at a photograph of Elle Greenaway.

 

“Okay,” Garcia replied, and swiped through to the next picture. Again he shook his head, not recognising several other people whose lives had crossed his own at some point: Lila Archer, Jason Gideon, Owen Savage all went unrecognised. He couldn’t place the BAU’s jet or the Quantico headquarters but Garcia was buoyed ever so slightly by his apparent awareness of the Las Vegas hotel strip and the Eiffel Tower.

 

“I’ve, I’ve been there,” he whispered as the French landmark filled the screen. “I was there with—“ he paused, closed his eyes to concentrate and while he did so, Garcia quickly pulled up another photo on the screen.

 

He opened his eyes, looked at the screen and smiled widely, “My mom!”He hugged Garcia and she smiled broadly.

 

“See? You’re getting there, you’re getting better!”

 

He seemed to be contemplating something and Garcia was torn between asking him about it and just relishing his successful memory recall.

 

“My mom,” he repeated, furrowing his brow as facts came to him. “She’s in a nursing home because,” he paused, thinking. “She’s ill.”

 

Garcia nodded. He tightened his hold on her hand.

 

“She’s got dementia.”

 

Again Garcia acknowledged him with a nod.

 

“I—I remember mopping the floor of,” his eyes narrowed as he concentrated and then looked to Garcia for confirmation, “My apartment?”

 

She nodded, “There was, um, a plumbing emergency.”

 

He made a face as he recalled the circumstances, “My mom left water running.”

 

“That was a bit of a bad day, but you remembered it! That’s what’s important,” Garcia encouraged.

 

“Yeah,” he agreed. Looking around the room, he realised Prentiss had left. “Where did, uh, Emily go?”

 

“She thought it best to give you some privacy when you were distressed,” Penelope said softly.

 

He smiled slightly, acknowledging Emily’s tact and consideration. Garcia watched him carefully as his face registered he was remembering something else.

 

“What is it, Spencer?”

 

The door to his room opened again and Prentiss reappeared balancing a cardboard coffee tray and a take out box. Reid’s face reflected surprise and disbelief.

 

“I—wow—this is amazing,” he exclaimed.

 

Prentiss made a face, “It’s just coffee and doughnuts,” she protested, setting the coffee tray down on the patient tray table.

 

“No, I mean,” his face bore an enormous smile, “I just thought about this one time you came into—I guess it must be our office—With doughnuts. Chocolate with sprinkles!”

 

Prentiss broke into laughter, “Look!”

 

She opened the box and both Reid and Garcia joined the laughter. The box was full of doughnuts, and Prentiss had remembered to include Reid’s favourite.

 

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The team members were all already sitting at the round table when Emily arrived the next morning. She greeted them all and then picked up the smart board remote. Eyeing it for a moment, she pursed her lips and set the device back down on the table.

 

“We have another case, but first things first. Thanks for all your hard work on the case in Sacramento. The Director has gone through your reports and he got a call from the California D-A who’s in charge of prosecuting that case, Dave. He spoke very highly of the job you guys did, so thank you.”

 

There were several nods of appreciation and acknowledgement from the team members and then Prentiss took a deep breath and continued.

 

“Garcia is fine. She was discharged from the hospital yesterday, but has elected to stay there for now. I was asked to give her another week away from work anyway so,” she paused and caught the eye of David Rossi, “She wants to stay near Reid, to try and help him recover. As you all know, they were both injured in that explosion at the mall last week. And, like I said, Garcia’s okay. Reid however, suffered a series of injuries and several blows to the head. He’s got trauma-induced amnesia. He is recovering; just yesterday he actually remembered something that happened here in this office twelve years ago. Physics magic.”

 

JJ broke out laughing and quickly assured the others that she’d explain later.

 

“But that’s a good sign,” Rossi observed.

 

“It is indeed. He’s recalling both long ago memories and more recent things. His doctor says the swelling on his brain—that’s what’s causing the amnesia—is down considerably from the first couple of days. He was due to have another MRI today. Dr. Sharma is cautiously optimistic that in time, Spencer will regain his memory fully. Although apparently quite often amnesia patients don’t remember the events immediately leading up to the amnesia, or anything afterwards.”

 

“So he won’t remember the explosion at the mall?” Lewis asked.

 

“Maybe not. At the moment, he knows he and Garcia were at that mall and debris was falling on them, but he doesn’t know the circumstances. He’s still confused about a lot of things, and he stresses about that. Which is why I’ve asked you all to stay away. I know you all wanna see him and I’m sorry, but even I managed to trigger him the other day, so I’m keeping my own visits to a minimum now too. He’s comfortable around Garcia and his health is the priority, so I hope you all continue to understand and respect what’s best for him at the moment. This is a difficult and stressful time for Spencer, and he needs to be able to process what’s happening to him.”

 

“Whatever Spence needs,” JJ spoke in a low voice, fighting tears. Tara covered JJ’s arm with one hand, squeezing gently.

 

Prentiss waited for a moment, giving everyone time to absorb and accept what she’d just imparted. Satisfied their heads were on the job, she picked up the remote, pointed it at the smart board and began, “Okay. Our case.”

 

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“Oh no!” Garcia cried and turned back from Spencer’s room looking for the nurse.

 

Eve was at the nurses’ station and heard Garcia’s outcry. She set down her notes and hurried towards Reid’s room, meeting Garcia in the hallway.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Spencer Reid! He’s not in his room! What happened?!” Garcia was distraught.

 

“Oh my goodness, Penelope, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Eve reassured her, patting her arm. “I’m so sorry. He’s down in Image Services; they’re doing another MRI. I assumed you knew.”

 

Relief streamed through Garcia and she issued her own apology. “Oh, I’m sorry for making a fuss. He was sleeping so I thought I’d go get something to eat and sit outside in the sunshine for a while. I’ve been gone for an hour. I didn’t realise he had an appointment this morning.”

 

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” Eve smiled. “He mentioned you had photographs for him to look at the other day.”

 

“Yeah, he remembered some things and people.”

 

“Can you try that again with him, Penelope? And then let me know how it went? Dr. Sharma was quite happy to see the progress the other day.”

 

Nodding, Garcia agreed, “Of course, of course. He actually remembered our old boss yesterday. Without any prompting.”

 

“That’s good,” they arrived at Reid’s room and Eve patted Penelope’s arm, “Let me know when you’re done, I’ll bring Spencer something to eat.”

 

Garcia opened the door and entered his room. After straightening out his bedcovers, she emptied and refilled the provided pitcher with fresh water and replaced it on the night table. She walked over to the windowsill and examined all the floral and plant arrangements, plucking any dead blossoms and stems. A smile crossed her face as she read some of the cards.

 

“ _Agent Lawrence and staff_ ,” she read aloud, happily surprised that even the committee that oversaw Reid’s reinstatement as a profiler had him in their thoughts. One arrangement was from their section chief Mateo Cruz and another from _The RCP Chess Club_. Garcia smiled at that, although she wondered how they even knew what had happened. The largest arrangement present was from their own team and tears filled Garcia’s eyes when she reached the end of the sill and found a plant with a card inscribed with simply Derek, Savannah and Hank Spencer.

 

The door opened and she quickly wiped at her eyes and turned.

 

Reid, sitting in the wheelchair, was pushed into the room and the accompanying orderly helped him move back to his patient bed. Garcia waited until he was settled, thanked the orderly on Reid’s behalf and then pulled the chair up closer to the bed and sat in it.

 

“How are you doing today?” she asked brightly.

 

“I’m good, I think,” he offered, “Pen, you’ve been here since, uh, I don’t even know. When are you sleeping? Or eating?”

 

She laughed. “I sleep when you do, right here in this chair. And I had a heart attack a few minutes ago because when I left here, you were sleeping. I went to get something to eat, came back and you were gone. Scared the crap out of me!”

 

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart. I guess we didn’t tell you I was going downstairs for that MRI.” He leaned forward and took her hand, squeezing it affectionately.

 

She nodded slightly and then laughed when he made a joke.

 

“And _I_ wouldn’t have remembered I had an appointment anyway.”

 

“Spencer!” They both laughed. “Are you hungry for lunch? Should I call the nurse?”

 

He shook his head, “It can wait.”

 

“Do you wanna look at more pictures?”

 

He thought about that for just a moment and nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, that would be helpful.” He patted the spot on the bed next to him and Garcia moved, sitting beside him and taking out her iPhone.

 

He swiped through photos, commenting as he went along.

 

“Dr. Who. Actually, that’s me,” he laughed. “The library. The Metro station. Oh. That’s your car. Esther, right?”

 

Garcia nodded, “Yes, yes!” she said excitedly. “What about this one?”

 

“The White House.” He continued swiping, “The Capitol. Penn Station. Lincoln Memorial. Smithsonian. Arlington Cem—are we on a tour of DC here?”

 

“You realise you just recognised all those places?”

 

He smiled broadly. “Yeah, places seem easier than faces.”

 

Continuing to swipe through the photos, he carried on effortlessly. “Okay. Grand Canyon. Mount Rushmore. Great Salt Lake. Oh man, the Bellagio.”

 

“Spencer, this is incredible, you’re recognising all these places!”

 

He beamed, “Yeah. Let’s try faces.”

 

Returning his attention to the images on the phone, he continued, “That’s Hotch! And,” his forehead creased as he thought for a moment, “Jennifer! JJ.”

 

She hugged him, “Yes! Oh this is wonderful!”

 

“Not so fast,” he sighed. “Who’s this?”

 

“You don’t know her?”

 

“I feel like I should,” he rolled his eyes, “Obviously I do, but I just can’t come up with a name.”

 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You did really well otherwise this time,” Garcia was ever the optimist. She didn’t think Alex Blake would have been offended that Reid couldn’t remember her name under the circumstances.

 

“Thank you,” he told her, reaching over to kiss her cheek. “And I think I am ready for lunch now.”


	7. Chapter 7

 

The door to Reid’s room opened and Penelope walked in, carrying a takeout bag. Spencer had slept most of the afternoon and after napping herself, Garcia had run several errands.

 

He was sitting up in his bed, reading one of the textbooks that Prentiss had fetched from his apartment days earlier. Garcia smiled widely as she watched him: fingers running down page after page, lips moving ever so slightly as he read. She realised the pages were being turned every few seconds and it occurred to her that Spencer was absorbing and processing the information at his pre-injury rate of twenty thousand words a minute.

 

She stood transfixed for several minutes watching his progress and it wasn’t until he was interrupted by a sneeze that he was even aware of another presence.

 

“I’m sorry,” he closed the book and set it aside as soon as he realised he wasn’t alone.

 

She shook her head, dismissing the need for apology and set the takeout bag down on the rolling tray table.

 

“We’re gonna eat dinner and watch some TV. Well, sort of, I brought,” she pulled her oversized purse off her shoulder and dug into it. “My computer! I downloaded the new episodes of _Dr. Who_ and _Star Trek Discovery_ onto it.”

 

She set the laptop down on his bed and opened the food bag. After handing him utensils and a napkin, she opened one of the two containers and offered it to him.

 

“Orange chicken, fried rice and almond veggies.”

 

He nodded appreciatively.

 

“And a fork. No chopsticks for you,” she pointed out.

 

“Thank you,” he told her, unwrapping the utensils and preparing to dig into the food.

 

He didn’t appear to make the connection to the memory he’d brought up the previous day when he’d recalled his inability to use chopsticks and the teasing he’d undergone in an earlier incident because of it.

 

Garcia hid her disappointment at that, remembering that Dr. Sharma had said he probably wouldn’t recall the most recent events happening to him. Instead, she wanted to focus on making the meal enjoyable.

 

“You must be so sick of hospital food,” she ventured.

 

“You know it!” he agreed. “This is so good, thank you!”

 

After they finished eating, she cleared away the containers and set the laptop up on the tray table. As it booted up, an image of Garcia holding her cat, Sergio, flicked into place.

 

“Awww,” Spencer commented. He reached out and touched the image of Garcia on the screen with a finger and she caught the gesture in the corner of her eye as she tossed the last of the garbage from their dinner into the can by the bathroom door.

 

The picture was part of a screensaver slideshow and the image changed almost immediately as Reid touched it. A photo of Penelope and him, dressed up for the _Dr. Who_ convention came up next and he laughed.

 

“We look great!” he said in a tone that immediately made her think he didn’t recall ever having seen it before. Her brow furrowed with worry. He isn’t remembering, she lamented inwardly. “This was from when we went to that con,” he continued and just as quickly, her worry changed to joy.

 

Digging into her purse, she extracted the very hat and scarf he’d worn and ceremoniously put the items on him.

 

“Hot!” she laughed.

 

“It misses the wig,” he commented.

 

“Still gorgeous,” she contradicted and leaned forward to kiss his forehead before affixing the hat from her own costume on her head. “Are we ready to watch?”

 

He patted the spot beside him on the bed and she joined him. Snuggled together, they spent an hour watching the show, and another hour happily discussing it.

 

“Save the Trek for tomorrow,” he asked. “Can we go through more photographs?”

 

She nodded, taking the laptop into her hands and told him, “Just give me a minute to put some together.”

 

Penelope didn’t want him to come across any photographs that would trigger horrific memories of his past. Dr. Sharma had suggested shielding him from incidents like the prison ordeal and the Tobias Hankel torment until he was more recovered. Not sure if any such photos even were on this laptop, she carefully loaded a folder with happier and neutral memories of his past before setting the laptop back in his hands.

 

“JJ,” he said as the first picture came up.

 

Garcia nodded. The image of their coworker dissolved into the next picture, two small children sitting together on a Merry-Go-Round.

 

“Oh man, the baby’s so cute,” he commented. After a moment’s reflection his eyes met Penelope’s. “JJ’s sons, right?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Spencer thought for a long moment before venturing, “Michael, right? And the older one is Henry.”

 

“Yes,” she said happily, squeezing his arm.

 

Another thought occurred to Spencer. “We’re their godparents.”

 

Garcia nodded. A wistful look crossed his face and Penelope chewed her bottom lip. The next photo came up and Spencer couldn’t name the man pictured. He seemed to have lost his enthusiasm for the exercise and Penelope moved to take the laptop from him. As she closed the folder, the picture of JJ’s husband Will winked out of sight.

 

“You’re tired. It’s been a long day, lots of stimuli.”

 

He nodded and yawned. Penelope slipped off the bed, hustled him under the covers and lowered the bed back down to the sleep position. She walked over to the window and drew the curtain closed and then returned to his bedside. Brushing his hair off his face, she bent to kiss him goodnight and left the room to go report on their evening to the nurse.

 

Tammy asked Penelope to wait for her at the nurses’ station while she checked on her patient. After securing the rails around his bed, the nurse took his vital signs, leaving him undisturbed and then she took his chart from the foot of the bed, dimmed the room lights and returned to the station.

 

“Okay, let’s sit over here,” Tammy indicated a small table and chairs away from the bank of phones and computers by the reception desk. Opening the chart, she made notes as Garcia related the events of Reid’s evening.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Garcia moved down the hall to sit in the visitors’ area by the elevator banks and spend the next hour playing games on her phone. Despite repeated earlier pleas from almost everyone—the nurses, Prentiss, her own doctor and most vehemently, Spencer himself—to go home and get some proper sleep in her bed, just before 11 p.m., Penelope made her way back to Reid’s room and settled into the chair she’d slept in for the last few nights.

 

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_She was walking through a field full of wild flowers, holding his hand. The pink and purple heads of bachelors’ buttons and violets bobbed gently alongside yellow buttercups and white daisies in the breeze, sending the combined heavenly scent wafting in their direction. Overhead, birds chirped as they darted in and out of each other’s flight paths. The sun shone brightly in the almost cloudless sky. She paused briefly to inhale deeply and gathered him in her arms, reveling in the tranquility and beauty of the meadow. In the distance, she heard the buzz of insects—cicadas she thought—and the scolding cry of a small animal. They both chuckled in amusement at the idea of an angry squirrel._

 

_As they walked, Penelope stopped to pick some flowers, moving aside quickly when she realised she disturbed some honeybees. He retook her hand and led her away from the bees, until they were once again moving through the carpet of flowers._

 

She was lost in thought as they walked and was suddenly startled by the sound of someone crying out.

 

Penelope awoke with a start, gasping as her dream was suddenly disturbed. “Oh!” she exclaimed as she shook off sleep and realised instantaneously that the interruption originated from the bed beside her.

 

“Oh my God, Spencer!” Immediately, she moved to comfort him and make sure he was all right. He’d been startled out of a dream of his own she surmised, as his hands reached up to grab at her arms fearfully.

 

He was breathing heavily and agitated. “What is it, Spence? What are you remembering?” she guessed. Penelope leaned awkwardly over the bed rails and managed to envelop him in a hug.

 

“He’s making me, he’s forcing me.”Spencer cried, gasping into her chest as he tried to breathe normally, “He’s drugging me. I—I,” he paused to lift his head up and make eye contact with her.

 

She moved one arm from around him and cupped his chin with her hand. 

“Spence,” she said sympathetically.

 

“ _I died_ , Penelope. I _died_!” he managed to tell her, holding her gaze for a moment before emotion overcame him and he fell forward into her shoulder, crying uncontrollably.


	8. Chapter 8

“Oh my God, oh my God,” she breathed. “You’re remembering. You’re remembering—The. _Worst_. Day. Ever. Oh my God,” she drew him as close as she could, rubbing his back as he shook in her embrace.

 

She whispered, “It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re safe,” over and over again, willing herself to believe it too. Finally, the sobbing subsided and he pulled away and their eyes locked.

 

“Tobias Hankel,” he said.

 

Her own eyes filled with tears, she nodded.

 

“I remember.”

 

“I know, baby, I know,” she said, pulling him back into the tight hug and holding him there for a moment while they both regained their composure. She sat back holding his hands instead as his words came spilling out. He told her all about the dilaudid, the hallucinations, and the subsequent addiction. He remembered the Clean Cops meetings, the insubordination towards Hotch and intentionally missing a plane.

 

She sat quietly as he bared his soul, recalling virtually every detail of his torturous ordeal at the hands of the murderous Hankel, a man who himself had suffered from dissociative identity disorder.

 

He took a deep breath and sighed.

 

“I remember it all.”

 

“You remember everything?” Penelope prompted, wondering what exactly he meant by ‘all’.

 

“The kidnapping, the recordings. He made me choose someone to die. He made me dig my own grave.”

 

“I remember giving Hotch the clue about the graveyard.I shot Hankel myself. And I remember,” he paused as more information filtered through his mind, “Gideon. Gideon was there.”

 

Penelope squeezed his hand, and as she did so she recalled Gideon doing the same to hers as the two of them had witnessed Reid die onscreen. As that thought occurred to her, an involuntary shudder coursed through Garcia’s body.

 

“Yeah, he was,” she said quietly.

 

“He was always there for me, right up until he left the team.” Reid had calmed from the nightmarish memory and noticed Garcia’s sudden tremor.

 

“You okay?” he asked, abruptly shifting the focus of their conversation.

 

“Are you kidding me? _You_ had this awful nightmare, remembering your real life nightmare and _you’re_ asking _me_ if I’m okay?” Almost immediately, she realised how that sounded and continued, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that in such a harsh manner—“

 

“I know,” he said evenly, patting her hand. “And this nightmare has made me remember a lot of things, Pen. Gideon, for one. And I finally have some context for something else.”

 

“What’s that?” she asked, rubbing her thumb along the top of his hand.

 

“I kept getting—and I still do keep getting—little flashes of remembrances of being confined to a chair and getting beaten. Or threatened with a gun. And the drugs. Now I know it was a real memory. Not a great one, but a real one.”

 

She nodded acknowledgement.

 

“I am getting my memory back,” he told her. “It’s coming, Pen, it’s coming.”

 

Heartened by his apparently swift recovery from the nightmare and the new optimism about his memory, Penelope gathered him up in her arms and kissed him.

 

“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day,” she declared. Pushing him back down onto his bed, she told him, “And you need to get back to sleep now. Restful, tranquil, nightmare-free sleep.”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” he placated her, nestling into his pillow and closing his eyes.

 

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“Yeah, Em. He remembered Hankel and the drugs and all that. It was a terrible nightmare, but he remembers everything that happened then. He told me things I didn’t know before. And he remembers Gideon.”

 

“That is such good news. Don’t get me wrong, Pen, it’s terrible he had such a nightmare, but he’s getting his memory back. That’s the important part.”

 

“It sure is,” Garcia beamed. She moved her phone from one ear to the other.

 

“So, Sergio destroyed the mouse I bought for him the other day. I thought he might be missing you and stressing, so I, uh, brought him into the office. He’s chilling over on my couch right now.”

 

“Oh my God, Emily, you didn’t!” Garcia giggled.

 

“Yeah, I did. He looked a little mad at me when I was getting ready to leave your place last night and I thought, what the hell, why not? So—“

 

“You took him home and then to work with you!”

 

“I did. I hope that’s okay.”

 

“That is so okay with me. I hope it’s okay with building security. And maintenance!”

 

“Don’t worry. I smuggled his litter box in too. I’ll stay on top of it. Anyway, I have meetings all damn day today so I wasn’t sure how late I was gonna be either. And I don’t think I’ll be able to come by the hospital until late tonight. If at all.”

 

“That’s okay, Em. And the team?”

 

“They’re in Lexington, Kentucky. And I’m sure they can’t wait until your week off is up. They must be tired of my inept attempts at doing your job.”

 

“Oh don’t! Emily! I’m sure it’s fine.”

 

“Yeah, sure. If you call having to ask me three times to send a file because I can’t tell A from B.” Prentiss chuckled. “We’ll be fine. You just concentrate on Spencer.”

 

“I will! Talk soon!”

 

“Later, Garcia!”

 

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“I think that would be all right, Penelope. I’m pretty sure Dr. Sharma would be okay with this. I can’t get hold of her,” she motioned to the phone as she replaced it in its cradle and rose from her seat at the nurses’ station.

 

“But don’t worry about it. Just stay on the hospital grounds and don’t be gone for too long, okay?”

 

“Thank you Eve. I think some outside air and sunshine, not to mention the change of scenery, would be good for him. He must be going stir crazy; he’s been in that room and in bed for over a week now.”

 

“I think it’ll be okay. Take him out for a little while. But the doctor is scheduled to see him right around lunch today, so be back before then okay?”

 

“Thank you! Thank you so much,” Penelope turned and headed toward Reid’s room.

 

She peeked through the window before opening the door and chuckled. He was sitting up in his bed engrossed in a textbook about memory recall, which did not surprise Garcia at all.

 

As she opened the door, he heard her and immediately set the book down. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and slid off it, taking two steps towards her and sweeping her into his arms.

 

“Hey you,” she laughed, returning the hug. He kissed her temple and replied to her greeting with one of his own.

 

“You need to get dressed,” she directed. “I am springing you from this room for a bit.”

 

“What—whoa—really?”

 

“We’re gonna go outside and get some sun and some air, Spencer. You’ve been cooped up in here long enough.”

 

His face lit up immediately.

 

“Where are my clothes?” He glanced around the room and Penelope reached into the small closet and removed the patients’ belongings bag hanging there.

 

Reid began to get dressed; the splint on his still healing left hand affecting his ability to accomplish this and Garcia quickly stepped in to help. She fastened the buttons on his shirt, zipped his pants and tied the laces of his Converses and then stood up. Taking his right hand in her left, she led him out of the hospital room, down the elevator and out the front door of the building. He stopped for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the early morning sunlight.

 

Taking a deep breath of the unfiltered fresh outside air, he murmured “Mmmmhhhmmm,” appreciatively as the warm breeze kissed his face, “This is such a good idea.”

 

Together, they walked along the sidewalk that lead all around the circumference of the building. Stretching out in a southerly direction behind the hospital was an expanse of green lawn that sloped down a hill. It was situated immediately adjacent to the forested area of a large city park. A small creek threaded its way through the forest. To the west was a playground and Penelope steered them in that direction.

 

He stopped suddenly and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. Her hands went to his face, cupping it gently between them.

 

“Spence,” she breathed, wondering what had brought on this reaction.

 

“I just had the best recollection,” he started. “I mean, I’m sure we’ve had lots of great moments over the years, but I just had the most vivid memory. You were at work, at your computer in your office. And I came in with a croissant for you.”

 

“Ooooh, oh yeah!” Garcia enthused, remembering the incident herself.

 

“You were particularly happy to find that it was still warm.”

 

“I was, I remember that!”

 

“Remember anything else about that conversation?” he asked.

 

“Well, _you’re_ the one who’s supposed to be remembering things, and” she looked him in the eye and smiled, “obviously you do remember what was said. So?”

 

“ _‘I heard you were hungry so I thought I might bring you a little surprise’_ ” he quoted. “’ _What good is in this? Oooh it’s a croissant and it’s still warm! Oh, you love me and I love you._ ’”

 

“I certainly do! I love you so much!” she replied and then they both said in unison, quoting that referenced conversation:

 

“‘ _What we have is a pure transcendent…_ ’ “

 

They laughed for a minute and then she felt a momentary twinge of disappointment when he released her from his arms. He retook her hand and then they resumed their walk. After a few moments of silence, Garcia squeezed his hand and spoke.

 

“Is there anything else you want to talk about today?” she asked as they advanced along the path and approached the playground. He was deep in thought and suddenly realised she’d addressed him.

 

“Sorry. I was just thinking about—“ he whispered and stopped; dropped Penelope’s hand and stood transfixed in front of the swing set.

 

“Spence?” Garcia’s gaze followed his line of sight and she realised he was remembering something. Touching her fingers to her own lips, Penelope stepped back and waited silently, allowing him to complete whatever contemplative journey he was experiencing. 

 

After several minutes, he took a few tentative steps forward and then turned around and sat in one of the swings.

 

Holding the swing’s chain with his right hand to anchor himself, he pushed off slightly with feet, allowing the swing to sway back and forth.

 

It made Garcia nervous to see; he could not possibly hold on to the left side with that hand still wrapped in a splint and his concentration compromised as his thoughts were obviously on some distant memory but she was loathe to interfere unless it became necessary.

 

He was swinging back and forth—just slightly, much to Garcia’s relief—for a few minutes, his mind a million miles away. She watched intently. Garcia could always read him and she did so now. He was pensive at first, then his lips pursed as something unpleasant crossed his mind. His tongue peeked out momentarily, his thought process was advancing through whatever he was remembering and finally a slight smile crossed his face and the swinging came to a stop.

 

He stepped off the swing and reached for Penelope’s hand.

 

“Okay?” she asked as she accepted his hand and they started back towards the hospital.

 

He nodded as they walked together. “I remembered Derek Morgan. More specifically, I remembered Cat Adams and the Dirty Dozen and the team bringing down their little network. And I remembered walking home with Derek Morgan afterwards. To his house.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Savannah was there. So were you. And you were so drunk.”

 

“Oh God, you _would_ have to remember that!”

 

He laughed and brought her hand up to his lips to kiss it. “It’s all good, Pen. You told us all you loved us. Repeatedly.”

 

“And I still do,” she echoed.

 

He thought about the memory from his childhood as they walked. _His four-year-old self, swinging on a swing as his mother pushed him. ‘Higher mommy, higher!’_ He remembered recalling that same memory sitting on the swing in the park across from Derek’s house. As they walked, his mind filled with a succession of memories of Derek Morgan: tossing a whistle back at Morgan after successfully neutralising the LDSK in Des Plaines, Illinois; being trapped together in a recalcitrant elevator in Portland, Oregon and pouring his heart out to Derek about high school bullying while on a case in West Bune, Texas.

 

A tear slipped from his eye as he remembered the day Morgan retired from the FBI and left the team, left him. He sniffed and recalled the reason for Morgan’s departure and a smile drew across his lips.

 

Garcia witnessed his expressions and squeezed his hand in silent support. As they arrived in front of the hospital, he detoured her to a bench outside the main entrance.

 

Following his lead, Penelope sat down next to him, still holding tightly to his hand.

 

“What is it, Spence?”

 

“I remembered a lot of memories of Derek Morgan.”

 

“He was your best friend on the team for years.”

 

“He could be a real jerk sometimes,” Reid started, relating the whistle incident and the time Morgan had tricked him and Garcia into fitness tests. “But he also helped me through some awful stuff. And I was both sad and happy when he left.”

 

Penelope tilted her head against Spencer until their temples touched. “We both loved him.”

 

“He saw me through Gideon’s death, Pen.” He moved to make eye contact with her, slipping his right arm around her waist and holding her close. “He _made_ me be strong through that. To help catch the guy. To get justice for Gideon.”

 

Penelope murmured, “Uh huh. He did.” She shuddered at her own memories of the case and responded, “That was such an awful, awful couple of days. I mean, we, our cases, we see death and dismemberment all the time, but when it’s one of our own. Just. Oh.” She shook her head, as though to rid herself of the image of Gideon’s body on the floor of his cabin.

 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be dredging up—“

 

“OH! But yes. Yes, you should, Spencer. That is the whole _point_ of this. You need to remember. I want you to remember. Even if it’s bad, it means your memory’s returning. So that’s a good thing.”

 

He nodded, “You’re right.”

 

“Of course I’m right. I’m always right. Well, okay maybe not _always_. But a lot. Just like you. You’re right almost always too. And—“ as she gestured with one arm, she noted the time and gasped “Oh no, it’s almost noon! Your nurse is going to _kill_ me. I wasn’t supposed to have you out long! We need to get back there. Now!”

 

She stood up, grabbed his arm and hardily maneuvered him through the hospital entrance and back up to his room. As they passed the nurses’ station, Garcia stole a look over at the group of nurses gathered there and was relieved to see Eve was preoccupied with a few of her coworkers.

 

Once in his room, Garcia hurried to hustle him out of his clothes and back into his hospital gown. He kicked off his shoes himself, but Penelope would have to unbutton his shirt and unzip his pants. A million thoughts occurred to her as she worked and the worst one happened. She had his shirt off but just as her hands moved to the top of his trousers, the door opened and Eve walked into the room with Reid’s lunch tray.

 

Garcia gasped in dismay, Eve’s eyes grew big as saucers and Reid broke into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.

 

“I’ll just leave this here. I’ll be back in, um, an hour?” Eve set the tray on the table and fled the room.

 

Spencer was still laughing when he felt a rough tug on his waist and Penelope let his pants fall to the floor.

 

“You know, I should just leave, and take all this,” she waved to include his clothes _and_ his hospital gown, “with me!”

 

He sobered immediately. He _tried_ to sober immediately. They were both laughing now as she held out the hospital gown for him to put on. He stepped out of the trousers, now lying in a bunch at his feet. After sliding his arms into the sleeves, Reid did a half pirouette so Garcia could tie the gown’s back closed.

 

She put his own clothes and shoes into a bag with the intention of taking them home and bringing him clean clothes later. Reid sat up on his bed to eat the lunch Eve had left for him.

 

“I’ll be back in a while. Your doctor’s due in a bit,” Garcia told him as she moved towards the door.

 

He gave her a reproachful look.

 

“What? What is that look for?”

 

“No kiss good-bye?” he complained.

 

She walked back over to where he sat, bent down to kiss him and stroked his cheek. “Love you, be back later!”

 

“Love you too, bye,” he said with a broad smile.

 

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	9. Chapter 9

“Penelope!” Eve called out to her as she stood at the elevator bay waiting for the lift to arrive.

 

“Dammit,” Garcia muttered under her breath, still embarrassed about being caught with her hands at Reid’s pants.

 

“I was just wondering if there was any more progress with Dr. Reid’s memory when you took him outside earlier,” she asked.

 

“Oh,” Garcia said, relieved. “Yes. He remembered one of his very best friends. Shared a lot of memories about him. Going back years too.”

 

“Okay, I’ll make sure to relay that to Dr. Sharma. No recent memories?”

 

Penelope shook her head slightly. “How recent are we talking?”

 

“The last couple months, actually.”

 

Penelope thought for a moment and shook her head again. “No. Definitely not. Not that he shared anyway.”

 

“And he still thinks you two are married?”

 

“Yes, he does.”

 

“Are you going home?”

 

“Just for the afternoon. I want to shower and eat and do some laundry. He’s got the doctor any minute now and he’s exhausted from the walk, he’ll need a nap too. I figured, some peace and quiet. And you know, absence makes the heart grow fonder. He’ll miss me more if I’m not around for a while.”

 

Eve smiled, “Well, I’ll let you go. Back to work for me!”

 

 

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Dr. Sharma finished writing in Reid’s chart and replaced the clipboard in its spot. He watched her intently and waited while she moved back to his side.

 

“Your MRI and X-rays both indicated marked improvement, Spencer. Ribs are healing nicely. Do you have any trouble with breathing or moving your chest and back?”

 

“No, I’m good.”

 

“Your left hand should probably still have the Tensor bandage on it for now.”

 

He nodded.

 

“Penelope tells us that you’ve recovered a lot of long term memories.”

 

“Yeah. I’ll have one, and it will trigger another. And so on,” he said brightly.

 

“But short term’s not so successful?”

 

“It’s weird, Dr. Sharma. I do and I don’t. I mean Penelope brought someone by a couple of days ago. And I know that I know her. I know her name. But I can’t remember it right now. It’s so frustrating.”

 

“Do you remember what you did this morning?”

 

“We went for a walk on the grounds,” he replied without hesitation.

 

“What about last night?”

 

His brow furrowed as he thought for a moment before shaking his head, “Dammit. No.”

 

“What did you eat for dinner last night?”

 

He thought again. Shutting his eyes tightly he tried to remember. A flash of memory flitted through his mind; he tried to decipher it but could not.

 

Shaking his head again he muttered, “I don’t remember” in a dejected tone.

 

Dr. Sharma reached out to touch his arm, “It’s okay, it’s okay. Do you remember waking up in the middle of the night?”

 

He drew in a sharp breath. “Yes. Yes, I do. I had a nightmare. It triggered memories. From like, twelve years ago.”

 

Dr. Sharma was already aware of this, having read his chart but asked him to elaborate so Reid told her all he could remember about his ordeal with Tobias Hankel.

 

“That’s good though, right?” he asked.

 

Dr. Sharma nodded. “Yes, it sounds more and more like your long term memory is returning to normal. I expected improvement, the MRI did indicate the swelling was down; it’s less than fifty percent of the initial volume. I’m still a little concerned for your short-term memory, but with the swelling still coming down and the medication, it should take care of that in another couple of days. I’m going to send the lab tech in here to take another blood sample though, Spencer; I need updated readings on sodium levels among other things. Okay?”

 

“Okay,” he complied.

 

“All right then, I’ll get those results sometime tomorrow and I’ll get back to you the day after. You need to rest.”

 

“Thank you,” he told her as he slid down under his bedcovers. Dr. Sharma patted his arm and then put her hands on the bed rail, intending to put it back into position.

 

Reid heard the noise it made and reached out to stop her.

 

“Please don’t? Penelope said she’d come back in once you were finished.”

 

She pursed her lips for a moment, considered this and finally acquiesced. “Okay. I’m gonna hold you—and her—to that,” she told him as she put the rail back down and turned to leave.

 

Spencer sighed in relief, turned on his side and closed his eyes to sleep.

 

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	10. Chapter 10

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An hour later, Reid awoke with a start. Still alone in his room, he slid out of bed and used the bathroom then returned to his bed and decided to read. There was a stack of books on the night table beside his bed. He sorted through them for a few minutes and found _Evil Never Rests_ by David Rossi.

 

His forehead creased. “I’ve read this before, I’m sure of it,” he said, taking the book and settling back comfortably in his bed. “David Rossi,” he mused aloud. Something sparked in the back of his mind.

 

He opened the book and found an inscription on the title page. ‘ _To my favourite Genius who also never rests, your friend, David Rossi_.’

 

Reid stared up at the wall as a memory suddenly filled his head. He was sitting at a table, wallowing in misery and an older gentleman sat across from him and related the story of his own uncle. _Uncle Sal_ , he recalled. He remembered David Rossi telling him he had to let himself grieve. _Grieve_?The thought triggered a series of other memories. Phone booths. Conversations. Letters written with coded names. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Maeve. His eyes clouded over. The stalker, Diane. Gunshots.

 

He set the book aside carefully as the tears started to fall. After allowing himself to cry for a minute, he wiped at his eyes and thought back to that conversation with David Rossi. _‘You know that I remember every single word we ever said to each other’_? he’d said. And Rossi had replied ‘ _Finally, the downside to an eidetic memory._ ’ Reid smiled. More memories filled his mind: Rossi verifying the number of boats on Lake Mead when the others didn’t believe him that it was 1,908; visiting the old Behavioural Science Unit bunker with Rossi while investigating Gideon’s murder and the older agent advising him to spend whatever time he could with his ailing mother rather than expending his energy trying in vain to find a cure for her dementia.

 

Reid poured himself a glass of water. After drinking it, he settled back into the bed and picked up Rossi’s book. Nine minutes later, he finished the last page and set the book back down on the night table.

 

“Satisfying read,” he murmured appreciatively as he headed to the bathroom. He splashed water on his face and then reached for a towel. As he patted his face dry, another memory triggered in his mind. _A towel was held to his face, keeping him from screaming as two men started to beat him._

 

Alarmed, Reid quickly withdrew from the bathroom, breathing rapidly and fighting panic. _Prison_ , he remembered vividly. _Mexico. Nadie Ramos. Murder. Scopolamine. Prison. Calvin Shaw. Drugs_. It all came back to him at once, slamming into him like Frazier and Duerson had behind the cell bars. He approached the bed and froze. The bed rail was up on the far side and the parallel was overwhelming.

 

He stood riveted in the centre of the room, unmoving and Garcia found him like that when she arrived minutes later.

 

“Spencer?” she asked finally. She’d stood still observing him silently for several moments; he hadn’t indicated he’d even heard her arrival. “Spence?” she repeated, inching closer until she could reach out and stroke his arm.

 

“Huh?” he intoned, as he finally acknowledged her. “Penelope!” Relief flooded through him as her being there jarred him back to the present. He gathered her into his arms, burying his face into her shoulders, kissing her neck before lifting his face to meet her gaze.

 

She held him tightly, sliding her hands up and down his back while waiting for him to speak.

 

“I remembered. Mexico. Prison. The beatings. Luis. The drugs. All that—“ he trailed off, his eyes reflecting grief, sadness, anger and relief.

 

“Oh,” she whispered sympathetically. _It was such a paradox_ ; she thought, _awful, awful memories, yet vitally important that he remembered this time of his life._ Unsure of what to say, she just held him, letting him lead any conversation.

 

She could feel his chest heaving as he fought off hyperventilation and kept rubbing his back hoping to soothe him. They stood together in the centre of the room for the longest while: Garcia stock still to support him; Reid agitated, fidgeting as he revisited those three months and worked to calm himself.

 

Finally, he lifted his head from her shoulder and brought his hands up to stroke her hair. “Thank you,” he whispered, “I’m sorry—“

 

She put a finger to his lips, “Shhh,” shaking her head slightly. “Don’t. Come,” she directed, leading him over to his bed and seeing him into it.

 

She busied herself fussing over his blankets for as long as she could while he settled down into the bed. The bed rail was already up on his left side, next to the windowsill, but down on the right and Penelope wasn’t sure how to adjust it. He shook his head and put his right hand on top of hers, intending to stop her from engaging the rail.

 

“Please don’t,” he pleaded.

 

“I can’t get the damn thing to work. I’ll get Eve.”

 

“ _No_. No, please don’t, Penelope.”

 

Reid’s eyes welled up, instantly causing hers to do so too. Garcia didn’t immediately understand why until he started to pull her hand off the bed rail.

 

She turned her hand over so she could take his and carried them both off the rail. A memory of touching the glass separating them in the prison visitation room washed through her mind and she gasped, realising what was troubling him.

 

“Oh. Oh my God, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

 

He shook his head, “I’m overreacting, I’m sorry.”

 

She put her free hand on his cheek. “Stop,” she whispered, shushing him. “No, you’re not. You’re not. Please, let’s just stop,” she entreated. She felt his grip tighten on her hand as he moved it up to his lips so he could kiss it, and then lowered them onto his chest. They stayed like that for several minutes: Reid clutching her hand tightly against his chest, Garcia swept the hair off his face and stroked his cheek affectionately.

 

Her eyes darted around and she noticed Rossi’s book was now sitting on top of the pile on the night table.

 

“You did some reading this morning?” she asked.

 

He nodded, grateful for the change of subject. “I remembered David Rossi, Pen. His books, his humour, his love for classic cars. And that he treats me like a son,” he smiled slightly.

 

“David Rossi is a love,” Penelope responded. “Evil Never Rests,” she read aloud from the book’s cover.

 

“Great book,” Spencer told her, “And as I read it, I realised I’ve read it before. Is that a long term memory or a short term one?” he asked with a huge smile on his face, “Because I remembered remembering it before.”

 

“I’m not sure,” she smiled back. “But either way, it’s a good thing! You read it fast too, I bet.”

 

“Nine minutes start to finish.” They both laughed. He waited for just a beat and then recited from it verbatim.

 

Penelope’s eyes grew wide, “Oh my God, that’s the eidetic memory!”

 

He nodded. “It is, isn’t it? Funny I remember that. But I can’t remember what I ate for dinner last night.”

 

“No matter, Spence. It’ll come, it’ll come.”

 

They squeezed hands and both their eyes welled up, the emotion of the moment threatening to overwhelm them, and after a few seconds, Spencer brought their joined hands up to his lips and kissed Penelope’s. “Thank you,” he whispered tenderly.

 

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she promised, bending down to kiss his forehead and then, freeing her hand from his grasp, patted his chest before telling him, “I’m gonna go see Eve.”

 

He nodded and sighed heavily, closing his eyes. Garcia thought he might sleep if left undisturbed and slipped out of the room.

 

Penelope reached the nurses’ station but Eve was nowhere in sight. She inquired at the desk and was told that Eve was on her lunch break, due back in half an hour or so.

 

“Can one of us help you, ma’am?” the nurse, whose nametag read Latanya, asked.

 

“No, it’s okay, I’ll just go run a couple errands, thanks,” Garcia replied and immediately headed for the elevator.

 

 

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After getting some lunch in the public cafeteria on the hospital’s ground floor, Garcia headed for the bench situated outside the front door and called Prentiss.

 

She brought Emily up to date on Reid’s condition, asked about Sergio and then told her, “He remembered Gideon and Morgan. And Rossi. And he remembered Mexico and prison too, Em.”

 

“Sounds like he’s really making progress.”

 

“Oh, and this morning he read Rossi’s book, and when I got here and we were talking, he quoted from it precisely. His eidetic memory’s still working.”

 

“Aw, PG, that’s so good to hear.”

 

“Short term’s still a work in progress, but he remembered so many things, Em. Gideon’s murder and the case. How Rossi likes old cars. That time Morgan was such a jerk to us about fitness.”

 

“Morgan was a jerk about fitness?” Emily teased.

 

“Which time?” Penelope countered, laughing. “But seriously, he’s remembering so much more now. I’m hoping not much longer before the short term kicks in too.”

 

“Do you think he’d be up to any visitors yet, Pen?”

 

Garcia sighed. “You know what? I don’t know, Emily. I mean, he’s got good moments and bad still and I’m just not sure whether that’s a good idea. I’ll ask the nurse, okay?”

 

“All right, text me later and let me know. JJ and Rossi, especially, are bugging the hell out of me wanting to see him. I mean, they know they have to wait ‘til it’s in Reid’s best interests but they’re both pretty antsy about it.”

 

“Okay, I’ll do that. They’re such good friends! I’m seeing his nurse ASAP so, I’ll get back to you later today.”

 

“Thanks, Pen. I gotta get back to work here. Team’s still in Kentucky. I’m still useless as ever at getting them the stuff they need,” Prentiss joked, “How much longer you on the bench for?”

 

Garcia blinked. _How did Emily know I’m sitting on a bench?_ “I-I think the nurse’s lunch will be over in another fifteen minutes or so?”

 

She heard Emily’s hearty laugh on the other end, “I meant, for how much longer are you sidelined, Pen.”

 

“OH!” Garcia realised what Prentiss meant and was glad that Emily couldn’t see her blush. “I’m back on Tuesday, Emily.”

 

“Okay. Hopefully we’ll have this one solved before then, and our actual tech analyst back before there’s another one.”

 

“And Our Genius back before long, too,” Garcia added.

 

“Amen to that, PG, amen to that.”

 

Emily disconnected their call and Penelope set about sending out a few texts.

 

_Hey JJ sorry 4 long silence. 187 doing much better will let u know ASAP about visiting._

 

While she was composing her second text, JJ’s reply came back.

 

_Thx! Sending my love xoxo JJ._

 

_Hey DR! Reid read ur book this am, Evil Never Rests. Getting better. Sending oxox PG_

 

_Thanks Kitten! Reid up for visit?_

 

_Sorry….dunno yet. Will catch you back, k?_

 

_Will be awaiting your txt!_

 

Garcia rose from her seat on the bench and headed back into the hospital building. As she reached the elevator bay, she ran into Eve. They rode up together and Penelope updated Eve on the memories Reid had recalled earlier that morning. As the door opened at their destination level, Garcia asked about other visitors for Reid.

 

“I don’t know, Penelope. I’ll ask Dr. Sharma when she checks in later today and let you know, okay?”

 

“Okay, and one more thing. Those bed rails?”

 

“Safety protocol,” Eve told her.

 

“Can we leave at least one side down? It triggers a really bad memory for him and I hate to see that. Please?”

 

“It’s really not allowed, Penelope, but you’re there with him almost all the time, right?”

 

Garcia nodded.

 

“And the protocol is that they have to be in place when the patient is unattended,” Eve began.

 

“So if I’m there, the rails don’t need to be up!” Garcia finished and hurried away, calling “Thanks!” back over her shoulder.

 

Eve stood at the desk and shook her head, “She should be a politician.”

 

“What?” asked Latanya, the nurse seated next to her.

 

“Oh, nothing. Just her. She sure knows how to get around the rules,” she indicated the retreating form of Penelope Garcia and Latanya laughed.

 

Penelope noticed the door to Reid’s room was closed when she arrived. She made her way back to the nurses’ station and Latanya looked up from her computer when she sensed Garcia’s presence.

 

“Um, Dr. Reid’s room. It’s just, I was here earlier and then I left but now the door’s closed. Is there a problem?”

 

“Oh, no. No problem. Santana is in there with him right now.”

 

Garcia blinked. “Santana?”

 

“Lab tech. Blood work and such. They also need to send him down for another MRI afterwards. As soon as the blood work’s done.”

 

“Another MRI? Is something wrong?”

 

“No, the technician yesterday just wanted to verify something so he asked that we bring Dr. Reid back down today.”

 

“Okay. Then I guess I’ll go home for a while.”

 

Garcia made her way out to the parking lot and climbed into Esther. She sat in her car for some time, trying to decide whether or not to drive home.

 

“Retail therapy,” she decided, and pulled out onto the road on her way to the mall.

 

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	11. Chapter 11

Several hours—and several hundred dollars later—Garcia emerged from the mall, laden down with packages and headed to her car.

 

She checked her phone and noted the time. “Good lord! It’s almost 7 p.m. Dammit!” She’d managed to lose track of time while shopping and now worried that Spencer would be wondering what happened to her.

 

After locking her purchases in Esther’s trunk, she got into the car. Putting it in gear, Garcia drove out of the mall parking lot and found herself right in the middle of rush hour traffic.

 

“Dammit!” she exclaimed and then checked the phone’s navigation app for an alternate route back to the hospital.

 

By the time she arrived at the hospital, it was almost 8 p.m. and she was hungry. She hurried to the elevator, willed it to hurry up to the seventh floor and then hurried off the elevator down the hallway to Reid’s room.

 

The lights were out, the bed rails were up and he was sound asleep when she arrived. She watched over him for several minutes; he seemed to be in a restful sleep and she made her way back to the nurses’ station. Tammy was sitting at the desk and Penelope approached her.

 

“How was Spencer’s afternoon? And evening? I didn’t mean to be away for so long.”

 

“It’s fine, Penelope. He had the blood work done, and then down to Image Services for the MRI. Eve said she let him take a shower this afternoon and he was just exhausted after all that and went to sleep at about six-thirty.”

 

“Okay. I’m just gonna go down to the cafeteria and grab something to eat and then I’ll be back up. Don’t wanna leave him alone for too long.”

 

“You’re an absolute doll, Penelope. Such a doting wife,” Tammy complimented her.

 

Garcia didn’t correct her. Instead she just smiled and went on her way. She wolfed down a sandwich and a tea, raced out to her car to retrieve something from the trunk and hurried back up to Reid’s room.

 

He didn’t appear to have moved in the half hour she was away. Penelope carefully lowered the bed rail on Reid’s right side slowly and she cringed as the mechanism squeaked when she moved it. Reid remained undisturbed, apparently not hearing the noise.

 

Garcia’s long day finally caught up to her. After setting her phone down on the tray table, she pulled the chair close to Reid’s bedside and sat down. Taking Spencer’s right hand, she laid her head down on the bed beside him. In seconds, she was asleep.

 

****************************************************

 

Reid woke up early the next morning, a smile stretching across his face as he found himself weighted down by Garcia’s head resting on his chest. Very carefully he managed to lift it up and then he slid aside out of her way, laying her back down gently on the bed. _How devoted she was,_ he thought with a smile. He stood up, rolled his shoulders and neck and then walked over to the bathroom. Splashing water on his face, he reached for a towel and remembered. _Yesterday, I flipped out when I did this. And I remember that!_

 

“Oh man, wow,” he exclaimed excitedly but quietly. He draped the towel over the edge of the sink and made his way over to the night table.

 

As he picked up _Evil Never Rests_ another memory washed over him. _Nine minutes, it took me nine minutes to read this yesterday morning._ Walking over to the windowsill, he examined all the floral arrangements, and as he read the cards attached, more memories flowed through his mind. _Much love from everyone at the BAU-Emily, Dave, Penelope, JJ, Tara, Luke, Matt and Grant._ As he read each name silently, his mind conjured up each image. He remembered all of them. _The best friends you could ever ask for,_ he thought, _they’re like family._

 

Spying Garcia’s phone on the tray table, he picked it up. It made him wonder where his own phone was, and he set hers back down on the table and made his way to the closet to look for it. The closet was empty. Another memory occurred to him. His patient belongings bag was missing. His clothes, his shoes were in there and he wondered what happened to them. _I remembered that!_ he thought happily, recalling that he’d worn those clothes when Garcia took him for a walk. _Yesterday morning_ , he remembered.

 

Stepping carefully past the still sleeping Garcia he took his medical chart off its hook at the foot of the bed. He flipped through it, reading about the most recent week of his life. He didn’t remember Emily visiting him although he recognised her name and realised to whom the notes were referring. His Medical Power of Attorney was listed as Emily Prentiss he noted and he recalled making that change after Aaron Hotchner had retired from the FBI. Reid read through all the notes about his memory loss and the progress of recovery as it occurred. He saw notations about his medications and their dosages. He read about the dressings on his injuries and observations on their healing. _Pretty standard stuff_ , he decided, having read hundreds of medical charts in his time as a profiler. He flipped back to the first page and a notation by his nurse, Eve, caused him to stifle a gasp of surprise.

 


	12. Chapter 12

He read the notation Eve made on the first day he'd been moved to this room: _Dr. Reid keeps asking for his wife._

"Whoa! Wife? News to me," he mused under his breath. "What the hell?"

He continued reading silently. _Checked with Dr. Sharma. Intake papers indicate his marital status as single._ Reid's eyebrows rose, and he referred to the notes for his third day where again he read Eve's notation: _Dr. Reid asked for his wife again. Visited by Penelope Garcia today. Dr. Reid appears to believe they're married._

"Oh my God," he breathed quietly, astounded at the revelation. Stealing a glance over his shoulder he saw that Garcia was still sleeping. For a moment he stared at her, shaking his head in disbelief at the lengths she was apparently willing to go to in order to help him. Several feelings washed over him: admiration, appreciation and pure love for this selfless friend. He blinked away the tear that formed in his eye, deeply moved by her magnanimity.

Collecting himself, he hurried over to the night table and picked up one of the amnesia medical texts. Quickly, he perused it looking for a specific section. Finding what he was searching for, he read the entire chapter and then set the book down and headed out the door in his bare feet, clad in just his hospital gown.

Just before reaching the nurses' station, he ran into Eve who was carrying a patient breakfast tray.

"Dr. Reid!" she exclaimed, as he followed her back down the hallway. She stopped in front of the room several doors down from Reid's and said, "I'll just be a minute." Indicating he should wait for her there, she entered the room and set the breakfast tray down on the table then hurriedly rejoined Reid in the hallway.

"Okay, what are you doing out of bed?"

"I know everything," he told her without a hint of acrimony in his voice.

Smiling, Eve replied, "Yes, both Agent Prentiss and your wife have mentioned you're a genius," she started and as she spoke she noticed the change in his demeanour when she said the word 'wife'.

"That's not what I meant. And, well, you can end the pretense now. I know I'm not married. I remembered this morning."

She made a move to speak and he forestalled her, holding up one hand.

"I remember a couple of different things from yesterday. And the day before. I remember reading Rossi's book yesterday. And I remember that I've read it before. I remember going for a walk in the park behind the hospital yesterday morning. I remember what I had for dinner last night-the Chicken Florentine. And I remember that I hate spinach." The corners of his mouth betrayed a smile as he mentioned the spinach and Eve acknowledged him happily,

"The short term memory, Spencer!"

He nodded, "Yeah, it's coming back." He smiled brightly.

They walked as he spoke, and Eve steered him back towards his own room.

"Anyway. I know I'm not married. I read all about amnesia and I figure my mind manufactured the idea of being married based on the fact that the last thing I do remember from before the accident was that I was with Garcia at a mall. We were there to get a birthday present for Michael. I don't quite remember everything. But I do remember impact. Falling. And being injured. And Garcia was there with me, trying to comfort me before everything went dark."

He stood in front of the door, one hand on the handle and continued, "When I came to, most everything was blank. You and Dr. Sharma called me Spencer and somehow that did seem familiar. I didn't recognise either of you, obviously. But you kept telling me 'Spencer, you're gonna be okay'. When Garcia came to see me, the only memory I had was you guys telling me I'm gonna be okay. And when I saw her face looking down at me telling me I was gonna be okay, it jogged the memory of her saying exactly that in the mall garage."

Eve made a sound of sympathy and he took a breath before continuing. "The textbook says it's not unusual for an amnesia patient to manufacture false memories. A defense mechanism, maybe a coping mechanism or perhaps a comfort measure. Generally, when the patient recovers their actual memory, they don't remember the manufactured one. But in my case, I do. So once again I'm weird."

"I believe the word you're looking for is exceptional, Spencer."

Their eyes locked and a small laugh escaped his lips.

"I'll be back in a little bit with your breakfast," Eve told him, then nodded at the door.

He acknowledged her with a nod of his own and then his attention turned to his room. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door just as Garcia lifted her head up from the bed.

She immediately stood up and moved to gather him in her arms. After hugging him, she ran her hands through his hair and kissed his cheek.

"Good morning!" she began and whatever else she planned to say died on her lips as she saw the expression on his face. "Spencer?"

"I remember," he said, pausing for emphasis. "Everything."

"Oh!" she said, her eyes growing wide. She was holding his hands in hers and felt his grip tighten.

"Everything, Penelope. I remember going for a walk yesterday morning. Sitting in the swing, and calling up a childhood memory of swinging. I remember reading—and rereading—Rossi's book. I remember all my BAU family. And that I hate spinach, even though that's what I got for dinner last night."

She grew excited, "Your short term memory!" she bubbled. "This is fabulous. Wondrous! Fantastic! Your short-term memory! Oh Spence—"

He nodded and released her hands from his hold. A look of confusion crossed her face briefly before he slid his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, then held her away from him to make eye contact.

"And I remembered something else."

"Which is?" she prompted when he stalled.

"I'm not married. _We're_ not married."

She bit her lip, unable to discern whether he was angry with her about that for a second before he shook his head slightly and opened and closed his mouth wordlessly.

"I—um—I—we" she stuttered.

"I know, Penelope. I thought you were my wife, I'd been asking for my wife. And _you_ ," he paused to take a breath and stroked her hair, " _You_ did the most incredible thing. You played along. To help me. To make my recovery more comfortable." There was a catch in his voice and he struggled against tears.

He held her close and sensed she'd started to cry.

"I don't even know where to start," he confessed. "That was an extraordinary thing to do."

She sniffled, "You're not mad at me?"

"Mad?!" he was astounded. "How could I be mad about that? I know the intent was not to fool me, Pen. You did it because I needed someone. I needed you."

Relieved, she was nodding as she ran her hands up his arms, "I did it because you're _my friend_. I would do _anything_ for you, anything for a friend. You're _my family_. And I love you."

"And you're a caring and selfless, generous spirit. And I love you too," he told her. They stood together in a tight embrace for a moment and then she heard a small chuckle escape his lips as a thought occurred to him.

"What would you have done if I never remembered? When were you gonna tell me?"

"You _were_ always gonna remember, Spencer. I had faith in that. Everything you've ever been through? Amnesia didn't stand a chance," she proclaimed.

"And you are always such an optimist," he responded, stroking her hair again. "But what if I didn't?"

"Didn't remember?" she confirmed as he nodded. "Emily asked the same thing. I'll tell you the same thing I told her. I'd do anything for you, Spencer. And if you never remembered, well, like I told Emily I'd be picking out furniture and paint colours for our place together."

She pulled him back into the tightest of hugs and whispered, "Because I would. I'd do anything for a friend."

-fin-

" _Your truest friends are the ones who will stand by you in your darkest moments-because they're willing to brave the shadows with you-and in your greatest moments-because they're not afraid to let you shine."_ ― Nicole Yatsonsky

" _There are friends, there is family and then there are friends that become family."_ -Akash Brahmbhatt

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Author's Note: Just wanna thank everyone for their comments and likes. A few have asked me to do a Reid/Garcia story. Well, you got your wish, coming soon "Never Again, Always & Forever"


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